


ephemeral (sempiternal)

by CallicoKitten



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, and the world tbh, and two hot af boys at her side, peggy deserves a happy ending, really when is it not angst with me though, spoilers for season two finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:29:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never mattered before. </p><p>Well, let her rephrase: she never let it matter before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ephemeral (sempiternal)

**Author's Note:**

> ephemeral - adj. lasting a very short time
> 
> sempiternal - adj. everlasting, eternal
> 
> this is kind of short but i wanted to write something for peggy carter aka the love of my life and the idiot boys who love her

It never mattered before.

Well, let her rephrase: she never _let_ it matter before.

Before there were drunken kisses, sloppy and desperate at the end of long nights and stake outs. There were Daniel's hesitant hands, framing her face, her hips, always gentle, always tentative. Soft kisses when Peggy wanted - _demanded -_ more, easing in and out because he doesn't want to hurt her or himself and little gasps when Peggy's nails dug in too deep. There were Jack's hands, desperate and grasping, rough kisses with too much teeth, loud moans and gasps, little growls of her name on whiskey-heavy breath when her nails raked across her skin.

There was the three of them, tied together, falling together, in Daniel's rinky-dink apartment, in the back of Jack's car, on Howard Stark's expensive sheets.

They never spoke about it afterwards, before or during. It was just something that happened and those bleary eyed mornings waking up tangled together in sweat-stained sheets, throbbing headaches and disorientated none of them could ever really look each other in the eye. It was something that happened in the dark, something to stay in the dark, it was never meant to _matter._

And with Jack, it never did.

But with Daniel - _oh,_ with Daniel.

Daniel with his warm brown eyes and steady smile and gentle hands and he may treat her like she's made of glass sometimes but it is not - it is _never -_ out of pity or the belief that she cannot take care of herself. It is out of the misguided belief that she is something _precious,_ something worthy of _protection._ It is something that makes her stomach lurch uncomfortably, that makes her want to run, run, run because the last man who looked at her like that is long gone.

(It's Jarvis and Ana that make her rethink this. Watching them move together, laugh together, love together.)

When Daniel leaves it all stops, there is not enough between her and Jack to keep it together. There is only acidity, animosity, biting and bristling and snarking and the knowledge that Jack Thompson may be a good man deep down, may be a good man one day but that day is not today and he will throw her under the bus first chance he gets.

(And she will forgive him because years of war-torn boys with quick tongues and quicker survival instincts have taught her to be patient. He will get there someday; she just hopes it is sooner rather than later.)

It happens that last night in LA, what Peggy thinks is her last night in LA, in Howard Stark's third or fourth or fifth mansion, with Ana and Jarvis and Jason Wilkes dotted about the place (and Howard probably listening in.) And they are _careful_ about how noisy they're being but after a certain point they are beyond caring about that. After all, it is not as though they can hide it, everyone saw them retire together, everyone will notice Daniel and Jack's rooms are empty.

She wakes in the early hours, soft grey sunlight filtering through the drapes - drapes that probably cost more than Peggy's entire wardrobe. Jack is sliding on his shoes, hair already immaculately slicked back. Daniel is spread between them on his front, still snoring softly.

Peggy stretches, gently brushes a hand through Daniel's hair.

Jack glances over his shoulder, "I expect to see in the office Monday morning, 8.am. sharp, Marge. No excuses."

Peggy smiles, a little more softly than she intends to and salutes, "Understood, Chief."

Jack smiles back faintly, looks down briefly at Daniel between them and then he's gone, the door snicking shut quietly behind him.

-

Later, she sits in a hospital waiting room, Daniel beside her, wondering if that is the last time she will see Jack Thompson alive. Her hands are folded neatly on her lap and she sits rigidly, desperately trying to hold herself together. Daniel is making no such attempts, folded double in his chair, hand covering his eyes. He feels guilty, Peggy knows. Feels guilty that while they broke all of the SSR's rules against workplace relationships, Jack was bleeding out in his hotel room.

It has shaken them both just how deeply they care.

(And Peggy is thinking of the night she stared down the barrel of her gun at Jack as he held that detonator.)

"He's still in surgery," she says automatically when Jarvis returns. "They won't tell us anything."

Jarvis presses a cup of coffee into her hands gently, "Miss Carter, you really must try to drink something." Peggy wonders if he's thinking of sitting in this room a week or so ago, their positions reversed, Ana's life hanging in the balance. He can't not be, surely.

It all happened so fast. There was a call in the bullpen, she recalls hearing someone shout, "Chief!" while her tongue was halfway down Daniel's throat. She remembers pulling back with a smirk, "Looks like you're up, Chief Sousa."

Daniel had grinned and kissed her softly and she'd clambered off of him as an agent burst in and said, breathlessly, "Chief Thompson's been shot."

Then there had been disbelief, harried questions, reaching the hospital just as Jack was wheeled in to surgery. She'd caught a glimpse as he was wheeled by, hair mussed, pale skin, bare chest and blood, so much blood.

Peggy has fought in wars. She knows which wounds kill and which wounds maim. She knows when to be worried and she is _worried._

"Miss Carter," Jarvis says gently. He is kneeling before her she realises, blurry because there are _tears_ in her eyes. "You'll be no good to anyone dehydrated."

Daniel's hand has found hers at some point, she squeezes it back. "He's right, you know, Peg," Daniel says.

She nods, swallows, takes a sip of the coffee - or at least, something that could probably _pass_ for coffee. Jarvis touches her cheek and stands, moving to sit beside her.

-

Jack lives.

By all accounts, it's a miracle. The bullet lodged in his ribs or collar bone rather than his heart and Peggy thanks a god she's not sure she's ever believed in for bad aim and sloppy assassins.

Jack is pale, his hair sticking up haphazardly, looking very young covered in bandages in his hospital bed. "Didn't figure you'd care so much," he mumbles his eyes keep fluttering shut and he's grouchy with pain. He really should be sleeping; his doctors keep telling her but Jack Thompson is nothing if not stubborn.

" _God,_ Jack - " Daniel says, voice cracking. He's standing on the opposite side of the bed to Peggy, leaning heavily on his crutch. One of his hands is on Jack's pillow, a hair's breadth from Jack's head.

Peggy's arms are crossed like she's holding herself in, "Neither did I, Chief Thompson," she admits.

The corner of Jack's mouth quirk up in a faint smile, "Surprise, surprise," he croaks.

"Yes, well," Peggy sighs. "It's been that sort of day."

"It's been that sort of week," Daniel adds, easing himself into the chair beside Jack's bed. He scoots himself closer and Jack looks over at him, "Been that sort of month," Jack says.

They share a smile that makes something in Peggy's stomach flutter and she clears her throat, "Can we do anything for you, Jack?"

Jack looks over at her, shifts and winces and he must see something in her because shakes his head, "No. Just no macking on each other while I'm sleeping, alright? We have rules about that sort of thing, you know."

It startles a laugh out of her and Daniel is grinning in that warm way he has. Peggy moves forwards, drops her hand to rest on top of Jack's and on his other side, Daniel strokes a thumb across Jack's knuckles briefly. Jack's eyes flutter shut.

"You guys'll find the bastard who did this to me, right?" he mumbles.

"You know we will," Daniel says firmly.

Peggy squeezes Jack's hand, "And as soon as you're on your feet you can help us."

"Good," Jack says. "I get to kill him though, alright?"

Daniel grins at her across Jack and Peggy smiles, "Alright, Chief Thompson."

" _Jack_ ," Jack says faintly.

"Alright, Jack," Peggy says.

**Author's Note:**

> if we don't get a season three i will cut a bitch


End file.
